


While We're Young

by Fullmoonmere



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Softie Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmoonmere/pseuds/Fullmoonmere
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale get drunk like they always do, but this time Crowley slips up into a love confession.





	While We're Young

_“The way your words hang in the moment suspended when_  
_You say something you can't take back again_  
_A heavy hush takes hold_  
_The quiet won't let go_  
_I was there watching you_  
_Watching me, missing you_  
_I've been lying and I don't know why I do_  
_Maybe the truth hurts so_  
_It's easier not to know”_

_-While We’re Young, Mariana’s Trench_

Crowley shifted to sink further into Aziraphale’s couch. While the tartan monstrosity was not his style per say, he could account for its infinite comfort. It was a week after the apoco-nope, and things had not changed, much to his disappointment. 

He thought they had had a moment there at the end of everything. A shift in the air between them, tension that slowly built. Waiting for the bus he had seen Aziraphale’s eyes shift, they had barely left Crowley’s face once they had sat on the bench. The steady blue had been diminished by the dilation of Aziraphale’s pupils, and the whisper, “Dear boy… “ had shivered down his spine to sink scorching in his core. He watched Azriphale’s mouth part, tongue pink, as it darted out to lick his lips. The air grew heavy, thick with whatever was happening between them, as Crowley swayed closer to those moist lips.

But then the bus rolled up, Aziraphale jerked away from him as if burned. And nothing happened. 

A week later, here he was, sunk comfortably in the back room of the book shop, drinking. And nothing had changed. Aziraphale was still politely distant, as always, and Crowley was still hopelessly in love with him. They hadn’t even touched since they swapped bodies back, and Crowley was starting to think the passion and need he saw in Aziraphle’s eyes at the bus stop was an hallucination from exhaustion, except for the molten heat still building inside him whenever he looked directly at Aziraphale. 

Crowley figured the main problem with being hopelessly in love with someone for nearly 6000 years was that at a certain point he would take anything Aziraphale had to give him. If that was physically distant friendship, then so be it. But he couldn’t forget the want and need he glimpsed in Aziraphale, he woke up panting and hard to it every time he slept. It had gotten so bad that he needed to frequently rut against his mattress while _“Dear boy…”_ rang through his mind. He knew Aziraphale would be disgusted knowing Crowley had to wank every day to those pink lips and dilated eyes, and that made him feel guilty, which as a demon wasn’t something he felt very often.

Aziraphale was droning on about something while Crowley was trying to ignore the shapes his mouth made while forming words. He tried taking another sip of wine and ended up just chugging his entire glass. The wine failed to cool him off and he was starting to get hot which was another thing he did not feel very often. Sitting up he shrugged off his blazer, and started to unbutton his waist coat. If he had looked up, he would have noticed how Aziraphale’s words stuttered and slipped which he watched Crowley’s deft fingers move button after button. Shedding his extra layers, Crowley miracled his glass full again and settled back in his tie and t-shirt. Looking up, he finally noticed that Aziraphale had stopped talking and was watching him questioningly. 

“Sorry angel, got a little hot. I’m listening.” 

“That’s unusual for you. Are you feeling alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, concern marking his face. 

“Fine, fine. Must be the wine, please continue.” 

Crowley tried to look away again as Aziraphale starting speaking, but found that he couldn’t. His eyes traced the fine lines marking Aziraphale’s face. He knew that their bodies did not age, but he liked to imagine the lines marking his eyes were laugh lines, that he and Aziraphale had had enough good times in their long existence to make them happy enough to mark their bodies permanently. But those lines had been there since the garden, and they had seen enough of the push and pull of humanity to know that true joy lasted rarely very long. 

As he talked, Aziraphale’s mouth tilted up into a genuine smile, and Crowley ached, deep inside. The smile transformed the angel’s face into something that was closer to God’s light. There were never times that Crowley doubted that Aziraphale was an angel, but he never believed it more than when he caught Aziraphale in a moment of true pleasure. His joy glowed from deep inside, and sometimes Crowley feared he would be smited by it. But he couldn’t help but crave for that smile to be because of him, not because of the new sushi place they discovered or rare first edition Aziraphale had gotten his hands on.

The warmth seemed to keep spreading and for the first time in his long existence Crowley felt tears forming at the corners of his eyes. He felt himself nearly buzzing with the need and want that was consuming him as he kept staring at Aziraphale. The air around him was building to something and he felt himself becoming suffocated with it. 

His mouth opened involuntarily as he stated, “I love you, Aziraphale.” His declaration rang clearly through the room, and he felt his eyes widen in shock of his proclamation.

Aziraphale stopped mid sentence and stared at him as his wine glass slipped from his fingers to clatter on the floor. Silence hung heavy between them and neither moved. Crowley felt heat work its way up his face, and he wished his glasses weren’t across the room. The vulnerability he felt was almost unbearable. Aziraphale seemed incapable of moving or responding in any way, and that angered Crowley. 

“Angel, this cannot come as a surprise to you. I thought it was obvious.” There was still no response from Aziraphale. “Was it not obvious?” he continued hesitantly suddenly doubting himself and all the hints he had given to Aziraphale over the centuries. 

The silence still hung heavy in the air and Crowley felt it crawling under his skin, puncturing holes through his heart. Rejection wasn’t something he had ever faced before, and he cursed his tratious mouth for spilling out his secrets like it had. “Uh.. well. Let’s just forget I said anything okay? How about we go get some sushi? Or cake from the Ritz? You know, it’s getting late. Time for this snake to sleep, yeah?”

Standing up Crowley attempted to escape the room and situation he put himself. He figured he could sleep for the next century and by the time he awoke Aziraphale would have forgotten all about how much of an idiot he was. Reaching the doorway, he dragged his keys out of his pocket. 

Before he could get very far he heard Aziraphale move behind him. A hand landed on his shoulder and swiftly turned him. Yellow eyes met blue, and Crowley sucked in a breath he didn’t need by the intensity he saw on Aziraphale’s face. He was pretty sure he was about to be smited, and it took everything in him to not turn into a snake and slither under a shelf for the next 10 years. 

“How long?” 

“W-what?” Crowley managed to stutter.

“How long have you been in love with me?” Aziraphale asked again. His voice was deeper than normal, and Crowley felt like he was about to shake apart beneath Aziraphale’s heavy hand.

Crowley swallowed a couple times, and finally looked away from the gaze burning him from the inside out. Fingers gently brushed his jaw, and tipped his head back towards the angel. Aziraphale’s fingers were warm but not hot, dry and soft. Crowley fought a moan at the feel of his skin against Aziraphale’s. The hand holding his face forward shifted slightly, and a thumb traced across his bottom lip. 

“Tell me,” Aziraphale whispered, breath blowing softly across Crowley’s face. 

“I thought angels could sense love,” Crowley found himself saying. The look on Aziraphale’s face matched the one from the bus stop, and at this moment Crowley would do anything that was asked of him. Anything.  
Aziraphale hesitated and drew back slightly. Crowley felt himself automatically chasing after him, already missing the grounding feeling of Aziraphale’s hands. 

“We can. But you’ve always felt the same to me, ever since the garden, my dear.”

“There is your answer, angel,” he whispered. 

Shock colored Aziraphale’s face and Crowley was about to apologize for every sin he ever commited to just get Aziraphale to look at him the way he was. But then every prayer he’d ever been afraid to whisper came true when Azriphale’s eyes dilated further and his mouth uttered the filthiest moan crowley had ever heard. 

Faster than he could track, Aziraphale appeared right in front of him, and crowley found himself cornered against the wall behind him. Then everything was blue eyes and pink lips. Aziraphale tasted just how Crowley had imagined, sweet and decadent. His lips were soft and pliant, and so incredibly perfect that Crowley moaned at the briefest of touches. That moan broke the stillness around them and Crowley found himself pressed harder against the wall. His hands tangled in the angel’s hair, lips parted and tongues invaded. And Crowley could not get enough. This was everything he ever imagined and nothing he ever imagined. It was the end of the world and the beginning of everything. He felt God’s grace in Aziraphale’s touch and it burned slightly, hands slid up the narrow contours of his body alighting every nerve ending they touched. He panted into Aziraphale’s mouth as a thigh pressed between and up. His cock twitched at the needed contact and he could feel just how hard Aziraphale was against him. 

“Aziraphale,” he moaned as he felt lips trace the edges of the throat. With as much of his shattered concentration was left he snapped with a shaking hand, and transported them directly into the bedroom of his flat. 

“Oh. Good thinking, dear boy.” This time Aziraphale snapped and their clothes disappeared. Crowley felt a gentle push and found himself sprawled across his bed. Looking up he found Aziraphale admiring his lithe form with extremely hungry eyes. He thought Aziraphale had never looked so beautiful than he did in that moment, a flush tinting his cheeks, his cock hard and pink against the soft contours of his stomach. His eyes were almost black with desire as he stared at Crowley and slowly licked his lips. 

Arizaphale stepped closer to the bed and slowly stroked one hand up Crowley’s calf. “You are exquisite. More beautiful than I could ever imagine.” His hands were gentle as they continued to trace up to Crowley’s thigh. Crowley threw his head back with a gasp at the love he could feel radiating from Aziraphale’s touch, and it was almost too much to bear. Panting turned into a moan as hands were replaced with lips and Crowley felt his body slowly being worshipped by Aziraphale’s tongue. 

Crowley’s grip on the sheets beneath him turned tight enough to shred as Aziraphale licked a wet stripe up the underside of Crowley’s cock. Slowly Aziraphale took him deep into his throat, inch by inch, with as much enthusiasm as he dedicated to any decadent dessert. Crowley’s vision whited out and turned to nothing but a swirl of tongue and suction, bobbing up and down, and he swore that every purpose he thought he had was leading instead to the feel of Aziraphale’s mouth around him. Heat continued to pool deep inside his stomach, and he felt himself edging closer and closer to the precipice. 

Burying his hands in Azriaphale’s hair he tried to pull him back and off, but his hand were batted away and Aziraphale took him deeper and moaned. The vibration pushed him over the edge and he came with a shout down Aziraphale’s throat and almost came again at the feel of Aziraphale swallowing around him. Time stilted and became hazy as Crowley rode out his high. Opening his eyes slowly he found Aziraphale hovering over him, watching him, the desire on his face had not dissipated, and Crowley could feel the hard length settled against his side. 

“You were delicious, dearest.” Aziraphale whispered heavily, threading his hands through Crowley’s hair. “But I haven’t had my fill yet.” 

Crowley moaned loudly at Aziraphale’s words and felt his cock growing hard once again. He silently thanked Satan that his body was not held to the refractory period that most male humans experienced. Reaching up to grab Aziraphale’s shoulders he quickly flipped them so that he was the one straddling and holding Aziraphale down. It was his turn to learn his lover’s body and he planned to take his time. Working his way down, Crowley licked and nipped his way across the curves that made up Azirapahale’s form, marking him as his. He could hear Aziraphale trying to suppress his moans into whimpers behind the arm thrown over his face, and Crowley could track the soft blush making its way Aziraphale’s face to his chest. Reaching up, he grabbed the arm covering Aziraphales face and pinned it down to the bed, revealing just how debauched he looked with his eyes half lidded and wet pants escaping his mouth. 

Crowley felt a rush of pleasure make its way down his spine in a rush of heat and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a snap of his fingers, he found himself stretched and lubricated enough to sink down Aziraphale’s cock in one quick movement. 

He watched as Aziraphale’s eye widened in shock and then rolled into just whites with the pleasure of the moment as he gasped out a, “fuck.” Crowley start to slowly ride Aziraphale, almost teasingly with his snail pace of rise and fall. Each slide of Aziraphale into Crowley was like heaven, or at least of what he could remember of heaven: warmth, love, and light. Closing his eyes he swore he could see the nebulas he used to create bursting to life behind his lids. Everything was perfection and he could do this for the rest of his existence.

“You are _mine_,” Crowley hissed out gripping Aziraphale’s shoulders and speeding up his pace. Sliding back down he felt Aziraphale thrust up into him causing the angle to shift slightly and hit his prostate. “Aziraphale,” he whimpered as his pleasure hit a new high. Their pace sped up until Crowley was riding Aziraphale erratically and sweat was dripping down his temple. Everything was pleasure and light, and he could feel the burn of Aziraphale’s holiness sinking into the void left by his fall. All the sensations swirled and grew until it became all Crowley was aware of, he felt his muscles trembling and his body tighten as he reached his second climax with a sob. 

Everything faded to white around him and Crowley felt like he was in God’s presence for the first time in 6000 years, he felt exposed, but more loved than he had since he was an angel. Vaguely he was aware of tears streaking his face in this white limbo as his body slowly relaxed and the white faded to black. Gentle hands were washing him clean and wiping his tears away. “Aziraphale?” he whispered. 

“Shh, love, just relax. I’ll take care of you.” His hair was stroked back from his sweat soaked face, and a blanket was wrapped about his naked form. “Sleep, Crowley. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And he slept.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn light filtered across Crowley’s face as he slowly opened his eyes. It took a moment to remember how he got back into his flat’s bedroom from the bookshop but when he did he jerked up looking for Aziraphale. His angel was curled up next to him with a book and a cup of tea, watching as he slowly woke. “Angel?”

“Morning, dear.” Aziraphale set his tea and book down and shifted to face Crowley. Crowley was happy to notice that Aziraphale hadn’t felt the need to re-dress after their intimacy last night, he took that as a good sign.  
They stared at each other without saying anything for a long moment. Crowley felt heat sneaking its way up to his cheeks. “Aziraphale, uh, you don’t regret any of what happened last night, right?” He watched Aziraphale’s features soften as he reached out to cup Crowley’s face. 

“Dear, tell me again what you told me last night,” Aziraphale whispered not breaking contact with Crowley. 

Crowley shifted slightly finding the warmth and intensity in Aziraphale’s gaze too much this early. “Angel…. Aziraphale, I - I love you. I have for a very long time and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Especially if this was the result I would have gotten.” He glanced up to see Aziraphale’s face breakout into a genuine smile. The brightness of it hurt to look at but Crowley decided he would tell Aziraphale he loved him every second for the rest of his existence if his angel looked at him like that every time. 

Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer so that their lips barely brushed as he whispered, “I love you too, dear boy. I am so sorry it has taken me so long to catch up, but I promise to spend the next century making it up to you.” Aziraphale sealed his promise with a chaste kiss that had Crowley seeing stars, and his mind swirled with blue eyes, pink lips, and a love that would never diminish.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
